Second Epilogue

T he campus feels even bigger now that I’m grown. I’ve been coming to games at this university for most of my life. My dad has had so many alumni events here, been honored on the field during halftimes, and spoken to the sports management program students for graduations.

Of course, he’s never carried a plastic bin full of fuzzy blankets up three sets of stairs. A first time for everything, I suppose.

“You know they have rooms on the first floor,” he gripes. He’s secretly loving this, and I know it. He’s gushed about how proud he is that I’m now a Wildcat no less than a hundred times since I made the decision.

“Yeah, but Wyatt’s room is on the first floor. I thought?—”

“Never mind. I love stairs. All the stairs. In fact, let’s get you moved to the roof. Or across campus. Or, how about you commute?” He’s kidding. Sort of.

“You could also try the elevator,” I tease. He waves me off, though, probably because he can’t stand waiting in lines and the line for the elevator is pretty chaotic.

My mom and sister are busy loading my clothes into my closet as my dad and I walk in with the final load from the car. My mom keeps hugging every sweater, T-shirt, and dress she pulls out of the garment bag. Ellie keeps trying my clothes on.

“Need any help here?”

Wyatt knocks on the open door as he enters, and my dad instantly scowls at his feet. I think he’s steamed at the fact he walked in so easily.

“He’s not a vampire, Dad,” I say.

“Hmm, so you think,” my dad grumbles.

My dad turns his attention to setting up the loft system for my bed as Wyatt and I make eyes at one another. I move into him, my hands finding their favorite place along his sides, my cheek flattening over his heart.

“He loves you,” I say.

“You keep saying that,” Wyatt says with a soft, playful laugh.

Truth is, my dad truly does. He’s even come to terms with losing all of his records to Wyatt, as well as the playoff game that sent Vista into the state championship game—which they ultimately won.

“Hey, Wy? Give me a hand.” My dad waves Wyatt over, and I step back to watch them hold up my bed frame, aligning the brackets for my loft so I can somehow turn a ten-by-ten space into something bigger.

Tasha is in the adjoining room, which makes my mom nervous. Between her and Wyatt living in the same structure as me for the next several months, I won’t be surprised if my parents up and buy property by campus just to pop in randomly and regularly.

I am looking forward to this little dose of freedom. It’s such a huge step. Grown-up practice. Semi-adulting. I know that things are going to be a challenge for Wyatt and me, too. He’ll have practice. I’ll have practice. But every Saturday in the fall, and a few random Friday nights, we will be together under the lights. That connection has only grown stronger.

The rivalry between him and Bryce has grown stronger too. A part of me wonders if Bryce committed to Arizona State just to fuel things. Maybe he needs the co-dependent relationship of having me and Wyatt close by, but at his nemesis school. It gives him something to hate, and for whatever reason, Bryce is at his best on the field when he is filled with jealousy and rage.

My mom noticed it toward the end of the season. My dad did too. And we’re all a little worried that he’s going to burn out by going so hard and fast. He got hurt in our playoff game, trying to do it all himself. One major concussion took him out right after halftime. Head injuries are something this family takes seriously, and my dad forced Bryce to watch the video of the play that got him hurt over and over until he admitted to dropping his head and driving for a touchdown. I fear Bryce thinks it was worth it, though. I know I shouldn’t worry about him. But I do. It would be cold of me not to.

But I don’t love him. And now that I know what real love is, I’m certain I never really did. I liked the attention. The status. When it was good. But so often, it wasn’t. He had the power to make me feel so small. I never want to feel that way again, to give someone that power again. And I don’t think Wyatt is capable of doing anything but lifting me up.

“There. All done,” my dad proclaims, slapping his palm on top of the mattress, which is now lifted several feet above my desk.

“Uh,” I stammer. My mom looks on from the closet and echoes me.

“What?” My dad’s brow pulls in as Wyatt steps back and checks things out from my view.

“Oh, yeah. We built a slide,” Wyatt jokes.

I grimace but move into my dad and hug him anyway for helping. My bed is about six inches higher at the top, and my dad tries to convince us all that he did it on purpose so Wyatt won’t ever be comfortable in it or will slide right out. But I think my dad is simply distracted by the fact this change—his little girl going to college—is happening.

He and I got close when I was in high school because he was finally home. He won’t say it out loud, but I think a part of him feels like he missed out on daddy-daughter time because of the game. I don’t see it that way, though.

This game . . . it’s defined his lifetime. Grandpa’s lifetime.

It’s ours.

Mine .

And it’s the glue for my most important relationships.

Including the one with the boy with dark blue eyes, who’s staring at me right now.

Our game is just getting started.

THE END

GO BACK TO THE VERY BEGINNING

Waiting on the Sidelines was my very first book, and it will always be incredibly special to me. If you haven’t experienced the lifelong journey of Nolan and Reed, you can see where this love story began with The Waiting Series.

Find them here: books2read.com/WaitingSeries

The boy.

His game.

Her whole entire heart.

Who says high school sweethearts can't be forever?

The Waiting Series follows high school sweethearts Reed Johnson and Nolan Lennox through football, life, love and everything messy that goes along with it. The series begins with Waiting on the Sidelines and Going Long. Book 3, The Hail Mary, is for more mature readers and deals with adult themes.

"If you haven't started reading this series yet, I've never been more adamant about a recommendation than I am in this moment. This series gives you EVERYTHING."

-- Jessica Sotelo (Angie & Jessica's Dreamy Reads)